


Happy Birthday, Vince.

by MakeItMagnificent



Category: Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: Drama, Humor, Leather Kink, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeItMagnificent/pseuds/MakeItMagnificent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A school boy performance comes back to haunt Stuart ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Vince.

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou to Valkyrie_32 and xof1013 for the beta read. Much appreciated! xx

_'Why in God's name would you expect me to wear these?'  
  
'Darling, you look adorable in them!'_  
  
\------  
  


**Three weeks earlier...**

 

'Vince! Is he here? Is Stuart here?' Marie swept into the apartment. Vince stood holding the door, frowning at her in bemusement. This was unusual behaviour for Marie, Stuart's sister, who was normally so quiet and polite with him. Her excitement was palpable as she peered around the open plan room.  
  
'No, he's -' Vince began.   
  
'We've found an old video!' she said triumphantly, turning back to him and smiling broadly. 'One of mum's. You still have an old player?' Vince nodded. 'Yeah, somewhere, I think it's under-'  
  
'You're gonna _love_ this ...'  
  
  
Later that day, Stuart and Vince were watching the new Doctor Who starring Christopher Ecclestone. After hours of discussion (Vince discussing and Stuart staring into space or making naughty/unhelpful comments), they'd decided they were entirely satisfied with this choice of new doctor. But as the show ended, Vince suddenly smiled broadly and began shaking his head.  
  
'Fuck's that for?' Stuart said, frowning at him. Vince turned to Stuart and, trying to suppress his grin, he said,   
  
'We've found a video, it's _fantastic_ apparently...'  
  
But when Stuart demanded to know what was on the video that was so fantastic, the stubborn streak in Vince kicked in and he refused to say. An onslaught of polite requests (didn't last long), rude requests, tickling, attempts at suffocation, and eventually sexual threats, still didn't budge him. But, half an hour later, as Stuart finally swallowed a stream of Vince's spunk, he had to ask himself how on earth Vince had managed to manipulate him yet again. Vince had received a blow job and he, Stuart, still didn't know what was on this fucking video. He sat up and looked down at his best friend and smiled fondly. Vince gazed back up at him, sated, pink faced and grinning. As Stuart delicately wiped his mouth, Vince continued as if there'd been no interruption,  
  
'Hazel, Alex and Romey are coming round tonight to watch it with us ...'  
  
\------  
  
 _'I look like a complete twat.'  
  
'He's gonna love it, you know he will. Just imagine the look on his  face!'  
_  
\------  
  
Stuart scowled as he let their last guest, Hazel, into the flat. Unfazed by his expression, she patted his cheek and kissed him. He was unimpressed with at last finding that the video wasn't some sweaty seventies cowboy porn, and that his evening was to be filled with entertaining guests who he hoped wouldn't be quite so excited as Vince was. Learning that it had come from his mother meant that it was probably just his thirteen year old self with smoothed down hair giving some sort of God-awful bible reading. That, Stuart thought, would explain Vince's excitement about the whole thing.  
  
Vince made sure everyone was supplied with drinks and peanuts. He slid the video in, pressed play and ran back to stand by Stuart who was leaning behind the sofa. They all waited. Then, hearing the familiar voice of his old headmaster, Stuart felt himself turn cold. The hairs on his arms stood up and his skin prickled. It wasn't quite an old seventies film, but rather an eighties school production of it. _No. No no no. Oh God, no._  
  
\------  
  
 _'Are you sure nothing's gonna fall out?'  
  
'No, no.' Laughing. 'It's all very snug.'_  
  
 _'_ _There was that kid on the Inbetweeners who was_ _on stage with his left fucking bollock hanging out.'  
  
More laughter. 'Your bollocks aren't going a_ _nywhere!'_  
  
\------  
  
Bugsy Malone. He'd always been a confident singer with that essential ability of being able to hit the right note. He'd been a choir boy at the local church, though this owed more to his mother's suggestion rather than his choice. But he would never normally do a school show - wouldn't lower himself, but when someone had dropped out of a lead role, the drama teacher had been desperate for a star singer and they'd looked to him. They'd pleaded with him and begged him, and, as it was the season of goodwill and all that, he'd finally agreed. On one condition:  
  
That he didn't have to wear a dress ...  
   
The show was filmed with a shaky hand. _By who?_ Stuart thought, _His dad? Fucker. He'd made him promise not to film it and he'd said he wouldn't._ Everyone in the room was still and quiet as they watched the opening songs. Stuart could sense the mounting excitement. It wasn't great, most of the singers being too quiet or out of tune for it to be any good and some kids forgot their lines. But as his moment approached, Stuart moaned softly to himself.  
  
He'd agreed to play Talulah. The original Talulah had been struck down with a pre Christmas flu bug. As Talulah/Stuart sauntered on, there were gasps and shouts of laughter from the school audience _and_ from the settee in front of him. Vince, for his part, was wide eyed and open mouthed. Stuart sighed. He actually had nothing to be embarrassed about. His Talulah had worn black school trousers and a white shirt, the top three buttons of which were rakishly undone. He'd point blank refused  to do the full drag queen look.  
  
But he also wore a pink sequined tie which sent Alex into paroxyms of pleasure and desire. His hair was fluffed up and ...  
  
'Oh my God, you're wearing make-up! Look!' Vince clutched at Stuart's arm. Stuart leant forward on the sofa and buried his face in his hands. He'd been given the full Dynasty treatment, with dark brown eye shadow, blended with gold, black eye liner, black mascara, and peachy pink lipstick. The third year girls had been in their element making up their unusual model and he'd had to fight to control their urges to paint Adam Ant stripes on his face. He point blank refused abstract New Romantic patterns on his cheeks, and made the girls totally redo the blusher.  
  
But it was the singing that finally quietened the room. It was sweet and clear in a strong Irish accent. As he sang the first few lines,

  


My name is Talulah  
  My first rule of thumb  
  I don't say were I'm going  
  Or where I'm coming from  
I try to leave a little reputation behind me  
  So if you really need to  
     You'll know how to find me ...

   
he sang with confidence and a knowing smile. He made eye contact with the audience and there was a swing in his step as he sashayed about the stage in perfect imitation of the original American diva.    
  
'Why didn't you tell us about this before?' asked Alex, transfixed by the sight of the fourteen year old boy singing with such ease and enjoyment on that old school stage.  
  
Stuart shrugged dramatically. 'Because you'd have wanted to watch it?'   
  
\------  
  
 _'This fucking hurts!'  
  
'It's all just practice. Now, wider!' _  
  
\------  
  
Up until now, there had been no sound from the school audience, apart from polite clapping between songs, but towards the end of this song, there came one or two catcalls. Slicing through the clearness of the song, came 'faggot' accompanied by sniggers and laughter. The word was repeated, getting louder, as the perpetrator became more confident. Others in the same area of the audience joined in.  
  
'Oh, Stuart,' said Romey, turning to him, her face full of concern.   
  
'Didn't give a fuck,' Stuart said, shrugging. And he hadn't. He'd got so used to comments flying about during his school career that their potency had long since worn off. He gazed at his teenage self. He'd been a self assured and popular boy, but always on the fringes of any group, never having a special friend, that someone he could trust with secrets. He probably would have sneered at the idea if he'd even given it a scrap of thought. He looked across at Vince who was smiling at the screen, enjoyment written all over his face with not a trace of ridicule. Little had that skinny boy parading about on stage known, ignoring the cruel words yet again, that two months later he would be leaving Ireland with his family as they moved to Manchester for his Dad's work. And he would meet Vince, his soon-to-be best friend and the someone with whom he would share everything, and the someone who he would face the world with.   
  
And on screen, young Stuart didn't give a fuck. As the catcalls continued, he'd moved over to the edge of the stage and continued his song in their direction, making sure there was a swing in his step and a wriggle of his arse, just for their benefit.  
  


I never say goodbye because the words upset me  
you may forgive my going  
but you won't forget me ...

  
'Ok, ok, ok,' said Alex flapping his hands, trying to quieten everyone after the song had finished. 'So. When will you sing for us again?'  
  
'Never?'  
  
'Aaaw, but I bet Vince would love you to. It's his birthday soon and what a special treat _that_ would be for him,' Alex wheedled.  
  
'Fuck off,' said Stuart eloquently. 'He has a _special_ treat everyday, don't you Vince? Don't you? Sometimes even two or three times a day.' He smirked and Vince smiled sheepishly back at him, saying nothing. But after eighteen odd years of being around one another, Stuart could read every expression on his friend's face. This expression said, _Hey! Alex just had an excellent idea there ..._  
  
\------  
  
 _'I'm not having a bouffant. So you can absolutely fuck off.'  
  
'Trust me.'_  
  
\------  
  
After everyone had gone home, Vince was sitting on the sofa, thoughtfully studying his beer glass.  
  
'So didn't your parents say anything about those kids shouting stuff out in the audience? Didn't they say anything about your performance, about you relishing the whole gay act thing?'  
  
'Nope. Mum said I was brilliant of course and dad never said a word.'  
  
'Do you think they knew?'  
  
'Of course they fucking well did.'  
 _  
_

♥♥♥♥♥

  
  
Babylon was hot and heaving, with music pounding and dancers gyrating and grooving on the stage. Vince, Alex, Hazel, Bernie and Nathan were clustered in one of the leather booths at the back. Vince was excited. He still hadn't seen Stuart that evening though he knew he'd left the office. He was regaling the others with details of the birthday present they'd got him at work. He was aware this wasn't the most exciting story he'd ever told, but with the heady mix of birthday and booze, he just didn't care.  
  
The music changed to an old familiar favourite. Alex gasped, craning his neck for a better look at the stage.  
  
'Vince. Vince. _Vince_!' he said, as he stood up, patting and pulling at Vince's t-shirt, while Vince carried on with his work adventures. Exasperated, Alex bent down and bellowed in his ear,  
  
'Shut up! Stand up! Look!'   
  
'Fucking 'ell, Alex, what the fuck,' Vince grumbled as he was pulled to his feet.  
  
The intro to the song continued its beat.  
  
Vince's mouth fell open. His hand clutched at the person next to him. It was Nathan, still sitting, and he desperately tugged at his shirt to get his attention.  
  
Slowly walking onto the stage, in a swirl of smoke, came a figure dressed in black and white. Shiny leather laced up boots reaching over the knees to mid thigh. Sheer dark tights. Tight black leather hotpants. Crisp, white shirt, three buttons open. And hot pink sequined tie ...  
  
He wasn't dancing, just taking in the crowd below him and waiting. Finally, taking the microphone, he began to sing,

_  
Uh-huh make me tonight  
Tonight  
Make it right_

   
'OH MY GOD!' shouted Vince. Nathan, having been prodded and poked by Vince and now hearing him shout, stood up and looked to the stage. He clamped a hand to his mouth, open wide in a silent scream.  
  
Hazel, already on her feet and thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, realised Bernie hadn't got up. She looked down to see the old man desperately groping the seat looking for his glasses and muttering away under his breath. Hazel leant over the table, snatched them up and shoved them on his face, shaking her head.  
  
Everyone else's attention had been grabbed by the familiar song and who they quickly realised was singing. Whoops and whistles went up around the club as the song continued.  
  
The lyrics were sung pitch perfect in a lilting Irish accent. Stuart smiled at his audience. His dark hair, wilder than usual, had thankfully escaped the back combing. His dark blue eyes were complimented with purple shadow, dark eyeliner, with eyelashes heavy with mascara. His lips had been painted deep plum. He swayed rhythmically to the music; the leather hotpants, snug tight over his arse, gleaming under the flashing disco lights.   
  
Alex was jumping up and down, clapping and whistling. He turned to Vince.  
  
'Go up there,' he shouted over the music. Vince looked dazed, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.  
  
'Yeah, get up there, see him up close!' said Nathan, pulling at him. Vince looked at each man in turn, then started moving towards the stage. As he left the booth, the crowds of clubbers were looking and smiling at him, and stepped back to let him through.

_  
Uh-huh make me tonight  
Tonight  
Tonight_

_Oh, uh-huh make it magnificent  
Tonight  
Right_

   
There was a pole on the stage for pole dancing. Stuart stepped in front of it, hips swaying from side to side. He leant back on it and slowly shimmied down, dipping to the ground in a squat, knees spreading wide. The audience shrieked and cheered, and Vince was spellbound as he gradually got nearer the stage. Stuart raised an arm and clutched the pole behind him. Still squatting down with head resting against the pole, he carried on singing, his eyes never leaving Vince's approaching form. He then released the pole and, leaning forward, hand on the floor, he pushed himself back upright.  
  
Vince was mesmerized by his perfomance. For him, the crowds weren't there and his attention was centred solely on Stuart with his gleaming leather boots; his seriously hot hotpants; the dazzling pink tie, sparkling under the lights; and the look on Stuart's face as his eyes burned into his. And he was astonished by how good the singing was as the song _was_ notoriously difficult. (He knew, he'd tried it.) And watching Stuart slide down the pole had made him ache with desire.  
  
As Vince got closer, Stuart approached the front of the stage, their eyes still locked on each other.  
  


_Tonight, make it magnificent  
Tonight  
Make me tonight_

  
Then Stuart smiled down at him.                                   

_oh your hair is beautiful  
Oh, tonight  
_

_  
_He walked down the three steps to the dance floor. Stopping just feet away from each other, Stuart lifted the microphone to his lips, cocked an eyebrow and in a deep voice, sang:

_Atomic_

'Happy Birthday, Vince,' he said into the microphone, in a normal voice.

As the song ended, Vince grabbed his arm and dragged him back through the crowd towards the exit. Stuart giggled, the song barely finished. He threw the microphone into the crowd amid clapping and shouts of approval. Vince could see his friends trying to attract their attention as they left but he knew that Stuart wouldn't want to carry on his birthday celebrations in the club. Vince quick marched them outside into the cold autumn air, and pressed him back against the nearest wall.

'Aaaaah, ooh, that's cold. Vince,' gasped Stuart. 'Stop, I want to -'

Vince wasn't listening. He attacked Stuart's mouth, slipping a hot tongue inside and Stuart, apparently forgetting the cold, responded urgently. Stuart pulled him in tight and groaned as Vince slid his hand down and over his leather clad arse, lifting his leg and running a hand over his barely covered thigh. Stuart leant his head back, sighing, as Vince kissed his way down over his chin, licking and exploring his neck. The pair were oblivious to passers-by, though most just enjoyed the display.

'Right, let's get home,' panted Vince, breaking away and looking around. He took Stuart's hand and smiled at him as the other man smirked back, his head lolling back against the wall.

Vince scrabbled for his phone and quickly dialed up a taxi. He turned back to Stuart. He leant into him, and quietly, in his ear, outlined precisely what he planned to do to him when they got home. And as Stuart grinned in approval, a taxi turned the corner into Canal Street.

On the back seat of the taxi, they didn't try to demonstrate any form of patience and restraint. Stuart nuzzled at Vince's neck as Vince ran fingertips inside Stuart's shirt, seeking out and teasing his nipples. Impatient to run his hands over Stuart's glorious leather wrapped arse once more, Vince pulled him on to his lap. With Stuart straddling him, the two men gazed at each another, smiling and giggling. And as Vince stroked the leather, Stuart writhed, making the most of the tight stretch of material over his groin.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the taxi driver would later tell her friends) the journey was short. The driver watched, smiling to herself, as the two men finally managed to get into their building, having been hampered by giggling, tickling and kissing.

Up the stairs (having waited ten minutes for the lift that Stuart had known was out of order) and through the door of their apartment, Vince tugged Stuart across the wide open space and into their bedroom. Before hitting the bed, Stuart pulled Vince into his arms, needing to feel their bodies pressing close. But Vince had different ideas, pulling away and sinking to his knees. He didn't remove the hotpants as Stuart expected and hoped for - he began kissing his tight clad thighs. And to Stuart's shock, Vince, evidently unsatisfied with this, then ripped the tights apart, nuzzling and kissing the quivering tender flesh beneath. Stuart gripped his head, desperate to keep him there, his hot breath and wet tongue so tantalising and torturous between his legs. Then Vince, on his feet once more and without ceremony, pushed him back onto the bed. Stuart moaned dramatically. He loved every minute of Vince's teasing and manhandling.

Vince paused. He looked down at Stuart, lying there, resting on his elbows, his shirt open, his legs parted with ripped tights and those glorious shiny black boots. Stuart was biting at his lip, his mouth looking used and swollen. A sheen of sweat covered his exposed chest and stomach. His hair was a rumpled mess of black curls. He gazed back up at Vince through thick black eyelashes. To Vince, he looked decadent, beautiful and fuckable. He slowly began to crawl up over him, taking his time, enjoying the journey. Tugging hard at Stuart's tie, Stuart pushed himself up onto his hands as Vince devoured his mouth.

'I am so gonna ... fuck you, Stuart Jones,' Vince murmured. The words made Stuart groan into his mouth as he pulled Vince down on top of him, clutching at his head as he wrapped leather clad legs round his thighs. Unable to stop himself, Vince began grinding his hips against Stuart's crotch, the men soon establishing a rythmn.

Vince pulled away to sit back on his heels. He moved his hands down over Stuart's chest, teasing nipples with soft fingertips. He stroked his stomach and his concentration was captured by the warm quivering of Stuart's taut belly. Slipping a thumb under the waistband of the shorts, Vince smiled at Stuart's frustrated groan. He was still bowled over by how simple it was to give Stuart such pleasure, how he could wrap him around his little finger. He'd had an inkling of it when they'd been just friends, in their everyday lives, but now it was a source of such happiness and pride for Vince.

Done with the gentle teasing, Vince pressed a hand to Stuart's groin and firmly massaged him through the leather. Stuart lifted his hips in response. His arms were spread wide and his head rolled, fully absorbed in the moment. The sight of this uninhibited display of pleasure hardened Vince even more. Always such a performer. But he knew this particular show would soon be over. He took each leg and unlaced and threw off the boots as quickly as he could manage, before tugging down the shorts, releasing Stuart's hard cock. Unable to resist, he leant down and licked around the head, but gave him nothing more. Stuart swore in mounting frustration. Then Vince's tongue trailed a path through the fine smattering of hairs on his stomach as he moved up to his chest. A small droplet of saliva fell onto one of Stuart's nipples and he used this to lick and suck, finally biting down and causing Stuart to arch up.

'Please Vince, please, oh fuck -' Stuart pleaded, as Vince leaned back to reach over to his bedside table. With a squirt of lube, he turned back to the desperate man below him.

'Open,' Vince said with authority as the two men gazed at one another. Stuart did as he was told. He parted his legs and held the backs of his knees wide to give Vince everything. In a split second of clarity, Stuart thought of the video and how before Vince, he'd never had sex with anyone he could truly trust, and who cared about what he _really_ wanted; and how incredible sex could be when you trusted someone to know you so completely.

'Oh, yesss ... ' hissed Vince. With a lubed finger, he firmly stroked and circled Stuart's hole as Stuart tossed his head and moaned in ecstacy. Vince then shuffled back on the bed and dipped his head between Stuart's legs, replacing the finger with his tongue. Holding Stuart's thighs apart, he licked at his exposed hole as Stuart panted and clutched at the bed sheets. He traced a ring around the pucker before pushing a little inside, starting an intoxicating tongue fuck. Vince knew that his hot breath in so intimate a region would be driving Stuart mad. Hearing him become more and more desperate, he gave the area a final lap of his tongue before sitting back up. He pushed two fingers inside, keeping it slow and gentle. As he felt it starting to get easier, he began a rythmic finger fuck. Any words Stuart may have been speaking slipped into incoherency as he rocked his hips with increasing force against Vince's fingers.

Eventually able to ease three fingers inside, Vince was happy that Stuart was suitably lubricated. He quickly went to open his own trousers, already damp at the front. He fumbled with the zip, getting it stuck. As Vince tugged at it he glanced down at Stuart, who, smirking back at him, whispered 'Twat!' through gritted teeth. Zip finally down and trousers off, Vince quickly covered his cock with lube. Unable to wait longer, holding Stuart's legs apart, he entered him fast. Both men shouted out - Stuart, at the sudden fullness inside him and Vince, through desperate relief. But for both men, it was also ecstasy. It was rapid, forceful and fast with Vince powerfully pumping into him. Vince began wanking him but within moments he felt Stuart's muscles clenching around him and Stuart came hard, Vince following a second later.

Vince collapsed on top of Stuart. He then gingerly eased himself off as Stuart groaned quietly. Laying side by side, both men panted hard as they recovered. But, within a minute, Vince was talking again.

'So, Atomic - that was fantastic!' he said, his breathing almost back to normal. 'But where was Talulah?'

'She had her moment in the spotlight. And she's not exactly Babylon either, is she?' Stuart said, smiling, well used to Vince's consistent need for post coital chats.

'And all the leather? Was that your idea? Some deep seated kink I need to know more about?'

'It was Alex. Actually, a toned down Alex from ball gowns and fucking tiaras.' Stuart rolled his eyes at memories of Alex's various enthusiasms.

'But. When am I getting an encore?'

'I'm not singing again.'

'I wasn't talking about singing.'

Stuart rolled over and pulled Vince to face him. He gazed into blue eyes shining with pleasure and happiness. Kissing him gently, he smiled as he replied,

'Any time, Vince. As long as _you're_ in charge ...'  


  


♥♥♥♥♥


End file.
